Harnessing a lightning storm to design a joyful life
This past weekend I had the privileged opportunity to attend a creative retreat at Kripalu, one of the most mystical, magical places I’ve ever had the fortune of stepping foot on (twice)! I’ve been nervous about what and how to share about this experience to properly capture my takeaways. I got to hear and learn from Liz Gilbert (one of my favorite authors and humans) and Dr. Tererai Trent (my new favorite human and humanitarian), plus more than 300 other inspirational people whose brutal and beautiful life experiences shook me to my core. But here’s the thing…
I’ve felt a certain (large) amount of shame in the privilege of this experience. To be clear, making this happen this past weekend was not easy for my family, either logistically or financially. Nonetheless, I DID have the privilege to be part of it, and it shifted some seismic plates within me. I heard from so many people who have endured the unthinkable; hearing their stories and witnessing their emerging self-love connected me to a more expansive understanding of the human experience. And I realized—what good is this privilege or ANY privilege in this life if we’re too ashamed of that privilege to share it with others? This morning I followed Liz’s advice and asked my inner voice what it would have me know today. It responded:
Share your privilege without guilt because keeping it inside is the only mistake you can make. Hoarding privileged experiences only perpetuates the privileges. Instead, plant them so the privilege can grow and spread for others.
Of course, I won’t be able to do my Kripalu experience ounce of justice. But I won’t let that stop me from trying to share little nuggets of my takeaways and my reflection process that will continue to emerge from my time away. So here goes…
After the opening night workshop, I planned to go to straight to bed so I could get up for an early morning yoga class. But when I got back to my room, I was buzzing with too much energy; something told me to head outside for some fresh air.
I dropped my stuff and stepped outside only to discover the most beautiful, completely silent lightning storm I’ve ever seen. For at least 20 minutes, I watched it light up the sky over the lake and mountains more than a magnificent fireworks show at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. I can’t remember the last time something other than one of my hardcore Peloton workouts actually physically took my breath away. I didn’t have my phone with me and had no concept of time. It’s actually better my phone was left neglected in my room because trying to capture it on video or photos would have taken me out of the mystical moment. I stood there enchanted like a child watching fireworks for the first time but without the terrifying, ear-splitting booms. The lightning bolts lit up the sky hot pink, alternating back and forth from one side to the other as if engaged in a passionate discussion. I wondered what they were saying to each other. And then it hit me…
Just minutes prior, the workshop ended with Liz and Dr. Tererai encouraging us to light up the metaphorical torches of our truest, wildest dreams for ourselves and the greater good, and march them on down to the lake. Apparently, 300+ people marching with torches through the woods was deemed some sort of fire hazard in the Berkshires? So immediately following the session, the universe decided to do it for us. One torch is a nice little flame. I am fully convinced that the collective “torches” of the 300 people in that room (plus 400+ more live streaming that night) created an energy that manifested nature’s torches. It quite literally stopped people in their tracks—I was in a mesmerized trance where time ceased to exist.
At this point I’m sure you’re thinking “Ok great, good for you. Beautiful lighting storm in the Berkshires. Rub it in.” But I’m sharing this because I’m doing my best to harness this energy and bring it back to my everyday life.* This is what I want YOU to take away from the lightning storm I witnessed:
Our world needs more of us to stop us in our tracks; slowing down to notice and appreciate the magic even (especially) in the seemingly mundane. There’s so much rage and hate and division in this world, I think the only way to shift this is to collectively pause and stop barreling ahead toward more of the same. Once you slow down, you can make a conscious decision to make a U-turn and head in a more fulfilling direction. Both individually and collectively, we can choose to head in a direction that allows us to love ourselves and others in spite of (perhaps even because of) of our fears and shortcomings.
Next time you get angry or anxious, or see it show up in others, pause to get genuinely curious about what that’s telling us. See someone raging out on the highway? Picture them as a 3-year-old who can’t quite explain their big feelings. Really, aren’t we all just a bunch of 3-year-olds trying to figure out our big feelings and yearning to feel understood and loved?
I’m reminded of the ONLY parenting (and self-parenting) strategy that seems to work for me every time, without exception: pause and just sit with the big feels. Don’t judge them or try to change them. Understand them for what they are. Let them (and you) know that it makes sense to feel that way. Without fail, things always seem to escalate when I try to rush my kid through her big feels and toward a solution.
Also, hugs and humor work wonders.
To make a cosmic shift in the world toward what we wish it was, we don’t need to always focus on what’s going wrong. Yes we must continue to talk about what needs to change and improve. But let’s not forget to also talk about what’s going RIGHT and how to cultivate more of the thriving. Don’t forget to laugh and have some fun!
If you’re reading this and laughing that this is all a load of ridiculous, mystical, touchy feely, woo-woo BS, that’s ok too. Laughter is laughter. Maybe next time you see a bolt of lightning, something inside you will be reminded that perhaps it’s more than a simple storm. Let that brief flash illuminate a spark inside you that you forgot was there. What is that spark trying to tell you?
Katherine May writes in her electrifying book, Enchantment:
“I am like lightning seeking earth
Uneasy, I carry the prickle of potential energy in my limbs,
ever deferred from the point of contact,
the moment of release.”
The great poet, Jack Gilbert (no blood relation to Liz, though arguably sharing some kind of soul connection) reminds us in his poem “A Brief for the Defense”:
“If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight…
We must have the stubbornness
to accept our gladness
in the ruthless furnace of this world.
To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.”
There’s no point in depriving yourself of joy; it doesn’t take away from the suffering in the world. In fact, it probably adds to it. The world needs more joyful energy buzzing around.
What can you intentionally notice today that gives you “gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world”? Bring that stubborn joy to the world. Please do yourself a favor and start by taking another minute to go and read Jack Gilbert’s full poem!
*For the record, I’m working really hard at all of this but as is often the case after a remarkably magical time away, the universe loves to put my ideals to the test. It’s one thing to understand all of this in a utopian setting, and another to put it to the test back in the “real world.”
Upon my return home, I entered into single parenting mode with my partner traveling for work on the other side of the country this week. I returned in a Zen state only to discover that our daughter needed medical attention. She’s fine now that she’s on a strong dose of antibiotics. I’m focusing my attention on my gratitude for access to top-notch healthcare, medication, insurance, and a strong village that always lifts me and my family up.
So thanks for the test, universe. I see you. Thanks for the reminder that life isn’t always full of joy, but I can still find little nuggets of it when I’m open to it.
P.S. This weekend I also had the distinct honor of getting a nickname from Liz friggin’ Gilbert. But the story of my nickname “Trophy” is a story for another time. Until then, stay enchanted.
I highly recommend checking out the new Substack, “Letters From Love” by
!
Your writing is beautiful! Thank you for sharing this heartfelt summary of the Liz Gilbert weekend at Kripalu. Keep up the good work✨